


Starry Night

by Conduitstreetcat



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Kitten, M/M, mormor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 14:01:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16914192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Conduitstreetcat/pseuds/Conduitstreetcat
Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and Sebastian has *finally* found the perfect gift for the man who has everything...





	Starry Night

Sebastian walks into the dark apartment. It’s only five pm, but it’s already pitch black outside, and raining, of course.

Christmas Eve…

He’d never have taken Jim Moriarty to be the epitome of Christmas cheer, but had been… pleasantly surprised during their first Christmas together, a few years ago now. Jim had insisted he get a tree, the biggest one that would fit into their apartment, and box after box of rare baubles had been delivered, as well as yards upon yards of gaudy multi-coloured lights and tinsel. Jim and he had spent an entire night drinking and decorating, and it had been such fun, so *domestic* - and he had found himself warming to the whole Christmas nonsense. The garishly flamboyant tree had been a welcome contrast to his mother’s tasteful monochrome trees, at least.

Jim loves Christmas, and always does his best to think up something special – the first year he’d bought baubles filled with different types of whisky for Seb to sample; the next year he’d replaced the Koh-i-Noor with a fake, and hung the original in their tree for a month, before returning it on Twelfth Night; the year after he’d got an artist to paint silver skulls on all their baubles… silver skulls which now smile their toothy grins up at Seb, as he turns on the lights on the tree, bathing the apartment in a soft colourful glow that always makes him feel warm and, well, *home*.

Jim’s gifts are always extravagant and thoughtful – he’ll traditionally get him one of the Guns and Ammo Guns of the Year, as well as a load of other stuff – but then, Sebastian is easy to please. Booze, food, holidays, sports equipment, cars, motorbikes, weapons, sex toys… all will make his eyes light up and go “You shouldn’t have!” in a voice that clearly broadcasts the opposite.

Jim on the other hand… he’s an absolute disaster to get a gift for. What do you get the man who has everything? Who buys whatever he sees and fancies? He’ll say thank you for the ties with skulls, the diamond cuff links… but it’s *so hard* to get him something really surprising, also because he’ll take one look at the box and know what’s in it…

Last year, Seb got him the head of a guy who’d been irritating him, which had at least earned him a smile. The year before, he’d got a cast made of his erect cock and had a vibrator made out of it, which glowed in the dark and everything. That had got a laugh.

This year, he’s quite confident he’s got the perfect gift. Smiling, he lifts the cat carrier onto the table and opens it. A small black fluffy ball is curled up on the towel inside.

“Hi there, LucyFur – welcome to your new home… Daddy Jim will be home some time later, he’s going to *love* you…”

Jim had been moaning about wanting a kitten for years, but Seb had always put his foot down – we’re away too much, who’s going to take care of it, no one can know where we live… but with the rise of Steve in the ranks, they *finally* have someone they trust enough to take care of the Empire when they’re away – and now a kitten too.

He lifts up the bags of supplies as he sees a little head poking out of the fluff.

“Good evening, Mistress Fur… let me make you some dinner and get your litter tray set up whilst you wake…”

He heads into the kitchen, takes out the cat bowls – black with mice skulls – and puts wet food in one, dry in another, water in a third, and places them on the floor. He’s just pouring litter in the tray when an almighty crash in the living room makes him jump and automatically grab his gun– he runs into the room, crushing a priceless bauble under his boot, seeing a shot of black lightning racing recklessly through a field of glass shards chasing a shiny golden sphere that seems to have survived the massacre.

Sebastian puts his gun away, stands looking in dismay at the carnage in front of him. The tree is flat on the ground, the lights reflected in myriad fragments of what used to be merry handcrafted baubles. A dozen or so have survived, mostly tangled in the branches of the horizontal tree, a few sturdy ones on the floor. To his dismay, he sees that Jim’s gold star, from some designer whose name he keeps forgetting, is in smithereens. Fuck.

The unique gift, which suddenly seems a lot less welcome, shoots out from under the cupboard where she’d chased the surviving bauble and launches herself into the tree again, dislodging two of the remaining baubles, sending one to its doom and chasing the other down the living room.

Fast though he is, Sebastian doesn’t manage to get her until he has cornered her under the side table. A loudly protesting kitten is locked in the kitchen, as Seb sighs, and gets out his phone.

 

*****

 

Jim sneaks into the house silently. It’s eleven – later than he had planned to be, but still in time for Christmas Eve, technically. The lights are on, so Sebastian is home, and he wants to get to his study to wrap his latest gift – a proper drinking skull – before he is spotted.

As he walks into the living room, he sees his sniper stretched out on the sofa – fast asleep – and – is that a *kitten* curled up on his chest?! Jim barely manages to contain a delighted *squeak* at the sight – he creeps closer as silently as he can to get a closer look.

Something is nagging at the side of his vision, though – the tree is wrong…

He turns around to see the tree secured to bolts in the wall by several sets of handcuffs. Bits of paper are stuck all over the branches with clothes pegs and paperclips – looking closer he sees that each one is a picture of a bauble. There appear to be five different ones, in different colours, each printed out several times and spread out over the tree.

His stare drifts upwards to the top of the tree. Secured with a clothes peg to the very tip of the tree is a picture of him, gold paint inexpertly applied around the edges.

As he tiptoes his way to the study, he doesn’t even make an effort to hide his giant smile. Seb is going to have a very merry Christmas indeed…


End file.
